THE SUBURBANITES By Russ Durbin Smashwords Edition Copyright © 2011 by Russ Durbin Cover Design: Charlene Lavinia Photo: Courtesy of Jackie Weisberg Smashwords Edition License Notes This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. The Suburbanites It was colder inside the car than outside when Jim slid out. He made no attempt to kiss her. “See you tonight,” he said, and walked toward the train. Janet slid over behind the wheel and backed Jim’s 1988 BMW 325 Touring wagon viciously out of the parking space, her mind still busy with events of the previous evening. * * * It had all started early in the day when Mrs. Rosario phoned to say she didn’t feel well and wouldn’t be in that day. That meant Janet had to do the marketing, the cleaning, and the cooking alone – and with the Blakes and the Carsons coming to dinner. She also had to cancel a three o’clock appointment at her hair salon which she really needed. Her hair was a mess and her nails really needed “doing.” To top it off, Mr. Papadopoulis at the deli was late sending the fresh fish she had planned for the dinner. She had dropped everything to rush to meet the five-fifty-seven and pick up Jim, and he hadn’t been on it. When she tried his cell, the phone immediately switched to voice mail. “Jim, where are you? Did you forget our dinner party tonight?” Please call me.” He probably forgot to charge his phone again, she thought as she dropped her cell in her purse. Back at the house, she took a quick shower, styled her hair as best she could and starting applying “her face” when she heard the doorbell. Her guests were arriving early. Throwing on her robe, she ran down to open the door and greet the Blakes and the Carsons. Trixie Blake took in the informal attire and said in her sugar-sweet voice, “Janet, how cute! Is this the latest hostess wear?” Janet had never been very fond of Trixie anyway. With the Carsons was a stranger named Marian Todd, an old friend of Janie’s who had dropped by late in the afternoon. “I did phone about six to let you know we would be bringing an extra guest,” said Janie, adding, “but there was no answer. I was sure you wouldn’t mind if Marian came along.” She laughed, “Marian eats hardly anything at all.” Janet looked at the newcomer and thought, Just men. Marian was a sultry brunette with languorous eyes, a well-developed figure and a full, inviting mouth. She wore a dress that was beautifully cut an inch too low and six inches too high. “I hope you’re not too angry,” said Marian in a breathy low voice. Then she sank into a deep chair and crossed long Julia Roberts-like legs. Jack Blake’s eyes bulged. It was almost seven-thirty, and the fish was Cajun-black although it wasn’t supposed to be when Jim arrived. She could tell by the subdued astonishment in his eyes that he had completely forgotten about their dinner party with the Carsons and the Blakes. He explained that he had been delayed at the office for an important meeting and was unable to call because the battery on his cell was dead. Janet detected the martinis on his breath when she kissed him; he’d certainly been in a great hurry to get home, she thought angrily. It turned out to be one of those nights. Halfway through dinner, the lights went out. Armed with a flashlight with weak batteries, Jim attacked the darkness with his feeble light to find the faulty circuit breaker. When Janet called down to ask what was wrong and why the delay, he snapped, “What the hell do you think I am, a magician?” By the time Jim found the offending breaker, the entrée was …well, a disaster, and Janet was steaming. Marian Todd, it was soon evident, highly approved of Jim. Her eyes left him only occasionally, and she laughed throatily at every limp witticism he uttered. Janet could understand it since Blake was a bore and Carson was a bit pear-shaped. Jim, damn him, still looked like the halfback and college class president he had once been. After dinner, there were drinks and exquisite little tidbits from the village bakery. That was one thing that had gone right! And Trixie, bless her inventive little heart, popped her ipod into the player and turned up the music for dancing. Politely enough Jim asked Marian to dance, and after thirty seconds Janet bitterly admitted to herself they were something to watch, all right. At least Marian was with her sinuous twisting and writhing. Jim returned, a silly fixed smile on his face. At that point, Janet surrendered; she knew he wasn’t the world’s best dancer…even though Marian Todd went on and on about how great he was. Jim draped his arm around Janet’s shoulders and asked, “Tired?” “Of quite a few things,” Janet replied viciously. When the evening finally ended, it developed that the Blakes had to pick up their children from the baby sitter’s home in Weston Village, the opposite direction from the Carsons’ home. Jim tiredly but graciously volunteered to take them, and Marian Todd, home. Janie and John Carson and the Todd woman all left in high spirits while Janet attacked the stacks of dirty dishes in the kitchen. At the Carsons, Marian’s car wouldn’t start, so Jim agreed to take her to her condo, which was in Boonville, another three miles away. Jim finally got home an hour and a half after Janet had calculated he should have. She, of course, didn’t know about the dead car. There was a smear of lipstick on the side of his mouth. Janet was sitting up in bed with Jay Leno on the tube. “Well, did you have a pleasant trip?” Jim explained about Marian’s car as he unbuttoned his shirt and put his clothes in his closet. He grabbed his pajamas and headed to their bathroom. “What is Marian’s place like?” she asked in a tight little voice. “Huh?” he said as he turned to her. The lipstick was like a neon light to Janet. “I don’t know; just the usual condo, I guess. I dropped her off in front of her place.” “You’re getting a little old for that, aren’t you? I mean, parking in front of a girl’s house? Look at your face.” Jim glanced in the mirror, wiped away the stain with a tissue, and said, “Janie Carson was acting silly. I think she had had too much to drink. She insisted on paying me with a kiss for the taxi ride.” “And Miss Todd’s ride took quite a bit longer, so the fare, I imagine, was….” “Look, Miss Suspicious of the Year,” Jim said tiredly. “I took them all home and had a flat on the way back. The lousy jack broke, and I had to walk a mile to Moran’s and have one of the night guys come back with me to change the tire. Let’s not make one of your silly productions of this.” “Jim Johnston, if you think for one minute I believe….” “Look, Janet,” said Jim. “I’m too tired for this. I don’t care what you believe. I’ve had a rugged day, and I’m not going to listen to you bitch at me for the rest of the night. You want to talk? Then talk to yourself!” Jim picked up his pillow and walked into the guest bedroom, slamming the door. * * * After breakfast and the silent ride to the commuter station, Janet was still fuming when she returned home. Oh, it had been a wonderful evening, all right, she thought. She whipped the car into the driveway and was delighted at the sound of the bumper ripping the side of the garage door. On the train, Jim tried reading the morning paper, but all he saw were the ruins of the preceding evening. What the hell had happened, anyway? * * * It had started in the afternoon at work when Owen Wilson called him into the office about the Bodacker account. Jim and his team had worked hard on that one, and it had seemed to him that this was a particularly good advertising campaign. But not, apparently, to the Bodackers. They needed major changes right away. He made the changes they wanted, working furiously, and was surprised to find that he had missed his usual train. He tried to call Janet, but his cell was dead. “Damn it!” he exploded. “I must have forgotten to charge it last night.” Using the office phone, he tried their house but there was no answer. Probably, Janet had already left to meet the train, and the answering machine wasn’t on. Jim ran to the station, just in time to miss the six-thirty-four. Oh, boy! He walked into the station bar with bitterness in his heart. Sometimes things just piled up. Two martinis made him feel a little better, and he got on the seven-oh-five train in a calmer mood, basking in the pleasant thought of how nice it would be to spend a quiet evening alone with Janet. She’d understand about missing the train. Besides, there was a good ballgame on television. It stunned him a little when he opened the door and found the Carsons and the Blakes and that raven-haired man-eater there. He had completely forgotten that Janet had told him they were coming. He had tried to be super gracious to everyone, hopefully making up to Janet for his tardiness. He had even been nice to the phony femme fatale the Carsons had dragged along. It hadn’t been his fault the lights had gone out, but he had been ashamed that he had forgotten just where the breaker box was hidden, cleverly it turned out, in the basement. Janet hadn’t been much help either. She just bawled him out. Fortunately, he’d kept his temper, telling her, “Don’t worry darling. I’ll have everything shipshape in a moment” …or something like that. When Trixie started playing music from her ipod, that had been the crusher. He was dead on his feet after a brutal day, and all he wanted to do was go to bed, talk to Janet, and tell her about the mess at the office. But no, that would never do! He had to dance with what’s-her-name. Of course, she was a good dancer, but …. He had noticed Janet blinking her eyes, and he asked her solicitously, “Tired, baby?” She gave him some short, enigmatic reply that he was too tired to attempt to figure out. Then, on top of everything else, he had to take the Carsons home. Janie Carson had had one too many, that was sure, and he was unable to defend himself from her slobbery smacker when she got out of the car. Then the man-eater’s car wouldn’t start and he had to take her home too. Miss What’s-Her-Name hadn’t had enough to drink. She had strongly invited him in, but he had excused himself because of the hour. Then the flat tire. Oh, boy! Janet certainly had been in a fine mood when he got home, all those biting comments of hers that were anything but subtle. She dramatically pointed at the lipstick and shouted, “Look at the lipstick on your face! Where have you been for the last four hours, you wolf?” Jim knew he had carefully explained about the kiss and the flat tire, but Janet hadn’t listened. Instead, she screamed something like, “That’s a lie, Jim! You were with that Todd woman in her condo, drinking and …and…” “Darling,” he began soothingly, “you know you are being a bit silly. I’d like to apologize for being late this evening, hon. It was one of those things that couldn’t be helped. I….” “Don’t sweet talk me, you bastard,” she screamed. He held up his hand placatingly and smiled, as he recalled, trying to calm her down, “Please darling, the neighbors.” Her voice had been shrill. “Jim Johnston, you beast, I’m going to Mother’s in the morning. And, I’m going to call our attorney and….” At least, he thought she had said something like that. He had known then that could be no understanding between them. “Darling, you’re upset. I’m sure you had a hard day, and I know it was mainly my fault. Now, go to sleep, and I’ll use the guest room so I won’t disturb you.” And he had taken his pillow and gone to sleep on that hard mattress in the guest room. He was always solicitous that way. Jim shrugged and opened the paper again. Maybe she’d feel better today. Maybe, if he sent some flowers…. * * * Jim got off the five-fifty-seven feeling better. The Beamer, with its freshly crumpled fender, was in its customary place and Janet was in it. “Hi, baby.” Jim hesitated, wondering whether or not he should take a chance and kiss her. He took it. The result was amazing. Her arms went around his neck, and she murmured, “Jim, darling, I’m so glad your home! Have a good day?” He took a deep breath and grinned. “I wanted to tell you last night. I was late because I had to make big changes in the Bodaker layout, you know, the one my team and I have been working on for days. Today, Owen called me into his office to tell me the Bodakers loved the changes I made and they bought the whole campaign. Owen told me I would be in charge of the project and that there would be a significant bonus in it when the job is finished.” Jim finished with another grin, “Nice, huh?” He wasn’t quite sure Janet had really heard him. “Yes, Jim, that’s nice,” she said in a dreamy voice. He stared at her. “Jim, the flowers. That was sweet. I never dreamed that you’d remember.” She finished with another kiss. Oh, God, he thought. Remember…remember what? Jim smiled modestly, and said, “Well, I…” He let his voice trail off and held his breath. “The anniversary of the day we got engaged! It was at that party of the Powells and…you….” Her voice trailed off too. Jim breathed again. Her arm was linked with his now. “And I stopped at Moran’s today for gas, and he told me all about the trouble you had last night. You poor lamb, why didn’t you tell me?” He knew enough to kill the smirk starting to form on his face. “About last night, I was tired and grumpy. I’m sorry,” said Jim. “Jim,” Janet said. “Let’s forget all about last night.” “That suits me fine.” He looked at his image in the rearview mirror and raised his eyebrows. Sometimes, you just don’t know what the hell was going on in a woman’s mind. * * *